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Profile Information

Name: Kristin
Gender: Female
Hometown: Little Egg Harbor, NJ Coastal South Jersey
Home country: United States of America
Current location: Little Egg Harbor, NJ
Member since: Thu Mar 22, 2018, 09:39 PM
Number of posts: 596

Journal Archives

R-rated. Sorry, write this for a metal band and they curse. A lot!

This was really written about me, about a person who made the mistake of confusing kindness for weakness.
So Iím the ďsheĒ but itís a male vocalist.

She never said a mean word
Was perpetually nice
Twisted her emotions
Til her heart turned cold as ice

You wanted her to thank you
When you tossed her scraps and bits
She blew it back into your face
Laughing, said, ďGo fuck that shit.Ē

You saw kindness
And decided to cause damage
Thought it was weakness
And then tried to take advantage
Your planís collapsing
Didnít work out like you planned it
Who knew quiet before storms
Warn the futureís turning savage

You see her walking toward you
And you run the other way
First time in your life you found
A game that you canít play

But a coward likes to hear his voice
And youíre forced now to admit
Thereís nothing left worth hearing
Itís all obviously bullshit

You saw softness
And assumed that she was weak
Manners and politeness
You translated to mean meek
Loud, obnoxious, bully.
Thought you were killing it
She sized you up for what you are
A tiny man-Go fuck that shit

Red-faced bluster, crazy rants
Go throw that man-sized fit
You mistook kindness for weakness
Take your noise and fuck that shit.

(Or in case there werenít enough curses, last line could be: Fuck that noise and fuck that shit.)

No Title Yet. Considering Wildfire 🤷🏼‍♀️

Why do you blame me
for what somebody else did
Why should I feel guilty
for feelings I once hid
Donít I have the right to keep
my feelings to myself
Are you worried about me
or just my mental health

Iíve seen you work your magic
Causing misery for fun
Iíve seen the fallout in the past
From stories that youíve spun

I know just how you do this
Say you care but youíre a liar
Light the match and blow the smoke
Gossip spreads like wild fire

Somehow youíll play the victim
when word gets around
Slyly walk away but then
catch it on the rebound
Whisper all the ugly parts
Be sure to leave out names
Pretend that youíre a savior when
Itís you who fanned the flames

Iíve seen you play this game
I know exactly who you are
Writing your soap opera script
Where youíre the only star

You love to play the martyr
But youíre nothing but a liar
Light the match and blow the smoke
Lies spread like wild fire

This is another, but this goes toward my poetry about violence toward women.

Again, itís written as lyrics, but I can pull out the repetitive parts if I publish as a poem. If you donít mind giving your opinion, I would be interested in which stanza should be eliminated to make it poetry. (I kind of have my own ideas, but Iím curious to see how others see it.)

I donít have a title yet....

Trapped inside a dark room with one locked door
Broken and bleeding on the cold hard floor
Sucking air in hard with ragged, jagged gasps
All that once was good, slipping from my grasp

There were two of us caught up in that nightmare
Screams of terror hang like thick fog in the air
Spinning quickly into madness from sweet reality
A one way ticket into horror and
You paid my entrance fee

Dead man walking barefoot to my execution
Praying with each step for some kind of absolution
Your paranoia of nonexistent persecution
Left little time or choice when looking for solutions

There were two of us caught up in that nightmare
A lifetime of destruction far beyond repair
Spinning into madness from sweet reality
Delusions clouded judgement so you couldnít see
A hostage with a ticket for a trip
That was anything but free.

A fractured mind of someone I donít recognize
Insanity reflected through distorted lies
Obsession had become something pathological
Cat and mouse hunting, the plan was diabolical

There were two of us caught up in that nightmare
Screams of terror hang like thick fog in the air
Spinning into madness from sweet reality
A one-way ticket into horror
And you paid my entrance fee
To my own slaughter.
Because nothingís ever free.

Poem called TRUMP (at least for now)

As you knows, Iíve been working on lyrics and the guys might be able to pull this off, so you will see frequent repetitions. I struggle with repetitions. My point is, if they canít use it, there are several other places to take it.
So, without any further interruptions, I give you TRUMP...

Skipping through the channels
I stumbled across your face
My chin dropped from disgust
Sick from your disgrace

You think that youíre a leader
self-anointed chosen one
I canít promise Iíll survive
But Iíll promise Iíll have won

Whatís the point? Youíre only gonna lie
Whatís your agenda? Itís heroic now to die?
Iíll be a hero, if Iíd only sacrifice
Says a frightened man whoís never had to pay that price

The point of your whole argument is weak
Full of lies and hatred
But the masses hear you speak.

People who supported you
Are tough to patronize.
The horror of a gory death
Lies fresh in angry eyes

You think that youíre a leader
self-anointed chosen one
I canít promise Iíll survive this
But I promise that youíre done

Whatís the point? Youíll only phone it in.
Whatís your agenda? We know your goalís to spin
Iím not a martyr, not protecting all your ties
Pay the piper. Itís time to pay for lies.

Somehow between here and now
Youíll toss out a brand new scandal.
Youíll say that you expected this
Itís not too much to handle

You claim to be a leader
Sent from God up high
You promise that youíll solve it all
While those around us die

Whatís the point? Itís lie on top of lie.
Whatís your agenda? Itís heroic now to die?
Iíll be a hero, if Iíd only sacrifice
Says the tiny petty man who wonít have to pay that price.

I hope this is allowed in this group.

I usually post in poetry. For the last maybe 5 months Iíve been working as a lyricist for a band. They asked me to work on this project, but the musicians are all over the East coast and weíre all locked down (except the guy in Florida but he self-isolated.) So I have no music, but the doodling is supposed to be a guitar picking.

Uh oh. Another one started.

Apparently, my creative side is pissed!
So far, in response to an excellent tweet, this just tumbled out...

‪Every time Iím on the brink ‬
‪You pull me back so I donít sink‬
‪The lies, so dead, begin to stink‬
‪Iíd like to buy the truth a drink. ‬

Iím hoping this one will be more subtle. Iíll post back if it comes out fairly well.

Didn't mean to make this a Corona Virus thing...

I wanted it to be vague enough to read it in several ways. Iíll keep trying that, but this is what came out. I start with something small: a word, a thought, a phrase, and then just let it flow. I allow it to have a mind of its own. Nothing spoils my poetry more than assuming Iím smarter than it. So hereís where I ended up...

My fury knows no bounds
I certainly have grounds
Go ahead and tell your lies
While the common man just dies

Doctor, can you see me?
This pain, Lord, can you free me?
They said it wasnít real
But thatís not how I feel

Preacher, can you save me
My own beliefs betrayed me
The righteous path to follow
Now seems too fake to swallow

My fury knows no bounds
I certainly have grounds
Itís so clear that you lied
My neighbor, the ďpatriot,Ē just died

My family, please forgive me
It was just reality TV
It turned right on a dime
Iíve squandered all our time

Journalists, you knew it
Looked away and blew it
Youíre coughing but itís too late
Itís hate, itís fate, itís just click-bait

My fury did have bounds
Iím buried in the ground
Youíre left to deal with lies
And the cries
While someone else slowly dies

Maybe a stupid question....?🤷🏼‍♀️

My son just turned 17. He works part time at McDonalds. He went in on Sunday and said he would like a leave of absence because Iím on chemo and my mom lives with us (Sheís 80s), and because we are both high risk for the Corona Virus, he feared bringing it home. The manager convinced him to come in once a week to do things like cleaning and inventory-no contact with money or people. He said yes, because he felt badly. Everyone else was quitting. My oncologist said he should change in the garage, toss his clothes in the washing machine and immediately take a shower when he gets home. The virus lives on our skin and clothing. My son was upset. He doesnít want to be responsible for killing either of us.
Today the governor closed ďall eateries and pubs.Ē McDonaldís says this is not them. My son says it is. What do you think? His next shift is 5 days away. I think it should be more understood by then, but any thoughts? Is fast food an ďeatery?Ē Seems like it should be.

Would love help with a title for this!

Any suggestions?
Again, itís written as song lyrics, so there is repetition, but I may keep it this way to use as a stand-alone piece of poetry. Thoughts on that would also be appreciated! 💕🎶

Just what is your problem now
What do you want from me
Youíre blaming me for all your woes
Full of rage and jealousy

What the hell is going on
And who the hell are you
Point that finger in my face
Four more point back at you

Iím not special, but certainly I try
Iím a sinner. Iím vain and sometimes lie
Iím not perfect, though I try to be
Iím not God. Donít even play Him on TV

What exactly is your issue
That you spew names and insults
Do you think that Iím that mighty
Is this some new crazy kind of cult

You think that Iíve got super powers
Responsible for centuries of wars
You even blame me for the weather.
Tell me, did I kill the dinosaurs?

Iím not special, but certainly I try
Iím not perfect. I even curse and cry
Iím no angel, though I try to be
Iím not God. Donít even play Him on TV

So what is your malfunction
What the hell did I do now
To make you think that your mistakes
Are all my fault somehow

Iím not that special, hard as I may try
Iím a sinner, I envy and I lie
Nobodyís perfect, your exampleís plain to see
Iím not God. Donít even play Him on TV.

Damn it all to hell and back
Have mercy, glory be
I try to walk a narrow path
But Iím not God.
Good Lord!
Donít even play Him on TV!

My Favorite by Poe: Annabel Lee

Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than loveó
I and my Annabel Leeó
With a love that the wingŤd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and meó
Yes!óthat was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than weó
Of many far wiser than weó
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darlingómy darlingómy life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the seaó
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

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